


Ashes to Ashes: The Curse of the Goblin King

by MyraValhallah



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:26:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyraValhallah/pseuds/MyraValhallah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after running the Labyrinth Sarah Williams learns a terrible truth, that she is connected to the Goblin Kingdom through centuries old curse. An interested third party sends her back in time to the days before Jareth's coronation with the task of winning his heart and breaking the curse, she has a year to succeed or she'll succumb to the same fate as every Champion of the Labyrinth before her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also posted on Fanfiction dot net and is dedicated to the memory of the late great David Bowie.

_(27th June 1986)_

The Labyrinth was oddly still as the white barn owl flew over it towards the castle at its heart. Perhaps it was responding to its current Lord’s mood. The owl, who was truly the Goblin King, transformed into his more typical, humanoid shape, as he flew in through the window of the throne room. The glamour cast upon him by Sarah’s wish- a bizarrely glittery image for a heterosexual male, and that was before one factored in the makeup- had dissipated the second he returned to his normal shape. The King, once again fully himself, proceeded to flop in a boneless slouch in his round and comfortable throne.

Following Sarah’s victory, Jareth had escorted her home, in keeping with his duty to see every runner safely out of the Underground. He had lingered outside her bedchamber- in his owl form- only long enough to watch her call upon the friends that she had made during her time in the Labyrinth. The way she had of turning his subjects to her side was proof that she would make them a fine Queen when her time came.

Beautiful, brave, innocent, cruel eyed, little Sarah had- at fifteen summers, so young that she was considered a child within the society she came from- solved the labyrinth faster than any of the countless Champions before her. Jareth drew off his gloves and ran his fingers through his blonde hair, trying in vain to dispel her image from his mind’s eye. Sarah was always going to win; he had known that she would from the moment the damn book had come into her possession- the first moment he became aware of her existence. He had hoped though, given the girl's youth, that she would be the one to break the curse which had plagued his paternal line for too many generations- Sarah had, after all, exceeded each and every expectation he had had of her, so why not this one too?

But no. It seemed that the cruel dance of the curse would continue, at least one more time. King Jareth, nineteenth of his line to be born under the curse, would not see his precious Sarah again; well not until six years from now when the curse would bring them together, one last time.

“Are you giving up so easily, brother?”

Jareth glanced up at the woman who had just entered the room, scowling. “What else can I do, sister? You know the terms of the curse as well as I do, you know that I may not go to her.”

“Then why not try to avert the curse?” his sister demanded. “Adopt an heir- the girl’s brother perhaps? I know you are fond of the boy.”

“Enough Caelenore,” Jareth snapped. “The terms are absolute- you know that, I am powerless to do anything else.”

“I know,” Caelenore returned, and Jareth could hear just how close his little sister was to weeping. “I just wish I could save you from this fate- it’s not fair.”

Jareth sighed. He rose and approached her as she lost the battle with her tears. He drew her into a hug and stroked her blonde hair- despite being a woman, and many years his junior Caelenore was almost as tall as him, a perk of having a tall father. “I know, Caelie, but that is the way life is. I would have you do something for me, though.”  
Caelenore nodded into his shoulder. “Name it.”

“Take care of my precious Sarah for me- guide her, help her as your father helped mother in her time of need- if you must, help her find a husband.”

“I would rather end the curse,” Caelenore remarked. “But if it comes to it, I shall do as you ask.”

“You are a good girl, Caelie,” Jareth told her, ruffling her blonde hair. “The Fireys chose their Queen well.”

Caelenore stiffened. “Y-you know about that?”

“I have a group of the beggars living in the labyrinth, remember.” Jareth said with a smirk. “What kind of monarch would I be if I did not pay attention to the denizens of my

kingdom, and to whom they offer allegiance? I will not tell a soul, I swear it.”

“As I swear to look after Sarah when the time comes.”

“Thank you, Caelie.” The Goblin King pressed a kiss to his younger sister’s brow. “Now, I fully intend to drown my sorrows before I prepare for what is to come- won’t you join me?”

A troubled look passed over Caelenore’s face at this reminder of her brother’s fate, but the moment passed and the younger monarch soon schooled her features into a crooked grin. “A chance to diminish your private cellar? I knew there was a reason why you were my favourite brother, lead the way.”


	2. Chapter One: Oh Distinctly I Remember

It was hardly a night to be on the road. The rain beat down in torrents and the sky was lit by intermittent flashes of lightning, and yet the little red Volvo sped on down the road. The small car was full to capacity and of the five young women riding in the vehicle; three were drunk, singing loud and raucous renditions of the latest pop songs; one was the designated driver, obviously sober; and the fifth had fallen asleep, all five were heedless of the danger speeding towards them.

Brakes squealed as wheels tried to find purchase on the rain slicked tarmac. The driver cursed violently and the sleeping woman's eyes snapped open, jarred from sleep, but still groggy. Unbeknownst to the five women, a pair of sharp yellow-brown eyes had been watching the little red vehicle. The eyes widened as the danger the car was in became apparent. The owner of those eyes swore silently, an oath which had not been heard by human ears in centuries. If she acted there was a chance that the ancient laws imposed in the days following the great exodus would be broken, but if she didn't act then she would be condemning innocents to death, crushed by the dented grey pickup truck heading right for them.

"Gods forgive me for this," the watcher whispered as she slipped seamlessly between her avian form and her more common one, with a glance at the American brunette in the back seat. She twisted her wrist.

_Crunch!_

The next morning a team of emergency services personnel would break into a totalled Volvo. They would find the car empty, apart from four faux-leather handbags and a pair of neon pink stiletto heels.

* * *

  
"I am never drinking again." Sarah vowed as she clutched her pounding head.

Her hangover was awful. Why had she agreed to that last round of shots? Sarah had been drinking since she was eighteen, after moving to the UK on a student visa, but last night had been heavy, even by her standards.

"I am given to believe that everyone says things like that, Milady," a voice remarked, far too brightly. "Especially after a night of heavy imbibing,"

 _'Milady?'_ Sarah's eyes snapped open to the dimly lit room and she quickly found the speaker- a young woman in a black dress with a mess of thick strawberry blonde curls tamed into what would have been a neat ponytail stood in the doorway.

"Where am I?" Sarah asked, and then clutched at her head in reaction to a particularly painful throb.

"There is a hangover remedy on the bedside table, Lady Champion," the woman told her. "Her Majesty said you would need it."

 _'Lady Champion?'_ Sarah thought, wondering just who this woman believed her to be. Aloud she asked. "Who's Her Majesty?"

Somehow she doubted it was Elizabeth II.

"Take the remedy, Lady Champion," the woman advised. "And then I shall take you to Her Majesty, she will answer all of your questions."

“Why are you calling me that?” Sarah asked, eyeing the pale pink liquid in the cut glass tumbler which sat on the bedside table- it looked more like a cure for indigestion than a hangover.

“What? Lady Champion?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Sarah nodded. “I’m not a lady, and what am I supposed to be champion of?”

“Take the remedy Lady Sarah,” said the woman. “My mistress will explain everything.”

Sarah wasn’t sure that drinking the pink stuff was a good idea, but she wasn’t going to get any answers until she did. She took the cup in one hand and took a precautionary sniff. She winced.

"You need to drink it Lady," the woman told her. "Not inhale it- it smells worse than it tastes."

Sarah repressed the urge to swear at the woman. While she had not promised to drink the stuff, her hangover was not going to go away on its own for a while. Pinching her nose to block the horrid smell, Sarah threw the hangover remedy down her throat.

The effect was instantaneous. All trace of the hangover was gone almost before Sarah had swallowed the last drop of the remedy. She smiled and moved to the edge of the bed.

"Better Lady Sarah?" The woman asked with a wry smile.

"Much," Sarah nodded. "Thank you..."

"Rozalyn, Milady," the woman supplied. "Now, once you are ready, I am to take you to the morning room for breakfast."

Half an hour, one hot shower and a change of clothes later, Rozalyn who revealed herself to be the housekeeper led Sarah down stairs. After the miraculous hangover cure Sarah was somewhat disappointed to discover that she wasn't in some fairy tale queen's castle, but a rather ordinary London townhouse, decorated in a neutral sort of way which indicated that it likely wasn't used very often. Rozalyn led Sarah to a polished wooden door and ushered her inside.

The morning room, decorated in that same neutral style as the rest of the house, was empty except for a table set for five people and two tall wooden bookcases packed with books. While she waited for Her Majesty to put in an appearance, Sarah explored the shelves. She was astonished to find a first edition copy of the complete works of Shakespeare which someone had scribbled in the margins of.

"I hope you won’t think less of me for defiling my books Sarah," a voice for behind drawled. "Especially one as old as that."

Sarah turned sharply, clutching the book to her breast. The voice belonged to a tall willowy woman whose blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She had yellowish-brown eyes and looked about ten years her senior. The woman was dressed similarly to Sarah, in button down shirt and tailored black jeans- but where Sarah’s shirt was green, the stranger wore a burnt orange colour. Sarah took a step backwards; something about this woman set her nerves on edge- the stranger reminded her of… something that, whatever it was, it was best forgotten.

“Forgive me for startling you,” the woman said, moving to sit at the head of the breakfast table. “Have a seat Sarah, Rozalyn tells me that your friends are all still sleeping.”

Sarah didn't move. "You're Her Majesty then?"

The blonde inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I am she. Caelenore; Queen of the Fireys, and High Princess of the Underground; at your service, Lady Champion."

 _‘Fireys?’_ Sarah frowned. _‘Underground?’_ She stiffened as the older woman produced a transparent ball, literally from nowhere, and began to roll it across her long fingers. "Wh-what's that?"

"A crystal," Caelenore, informed her, as if laughing at some private joke. "Nothing more, but if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. Want it?"

Before Sarah had the chance to begin formulating a response to this cryptic speech, Caelenore tossed the ball to her. Instinctively Sarah found herself reaching up to catch the see-through projectile, and as her fingers closed around the smooth, polished glass, something shifted in her mind. As if someone had thrown a switch inside her brain, Sarah Williams found herself facing a female version of the Goblin King.

"You have no power over me!" she snarled, stumbling back yet further, until her back hit the bookshelf.

Caelenore rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that only works once and you have had your turn."

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded. "Did the Goblin King send you to mess with me?"

"My dear Sarah, I just told you who I am, and as for the Goblin King; I doubt that he even knows that I know who you are, yet."

"Then, what do you want with me?"

Caelenore's answer surprised her. "I want my brother back, Lady Champion, please, if that's all right."

"What are you talking about?” Sarah frowned. “I don't have your brother."

"No, but you did beat him and win your own back."

"Your brother is the Goblin King?" Sarah supposed it made sense, given the resemblance she bore to the bastard who kidnapped Toby five years earlier.

"Only for another year," the blonde returned. "After that, you take over, until your son is old enough to assume the throne."

"What?"

"Have a seat Sarah," Caelenore gestured to the place opposite her own. "I have a story to share, and it would be best if you were seated while I tell it to you. I should tell you that I am in no hurry my dear, Jareth is not the only one who can reorder time, we shall not be disturbed until my tale is told."

Against her better judgement, Sarah moved to take the indicated chair. "Alright, Your Majesty, I'm listening."

"Before we begin," the Goblin King's sister said. "Allow me to slip into something a little more… me."

So saying she flicked her wrist and her appearance changed before Sarah's eyes. She looked like the woman she had been when Sarah had first seen her, albeit a slightly less human version; with pointed ears, eyes set in exotically slanted sockets and upswept eyebrows. Her hair remained down and unruly but now appeared to have unevenly dip-dyed ginger tips; it somehow gave the impression of her hair being on fire.

"That's much better." Caelenore smiled. "Now we can begin."

"You didn't use a crystal," Sarah blurted, stupidly.

"Crystals are a trope of ruling the Goblins," the blonde explained with a smirk which was the image of her bastard of a brother's. "A parlour trick for the distraction of the runner, for the most part magic is used in its raw form, even by the Goblin monarch."

"Oh," said Sarah, not knowing what else to say.

"Let us begin at the beginning though," Caelenore waved her hand over the empty table and tea and toast appeared on the table. "Help yourself, Sarah. I swear on my honour as a queen of the Underground that this fare is perfectly safe, no hallucinogens I guarantee."

"Y-you know about that?" Sarah asked in mortification.

"Sarah dear, everybody knows about that." Caelenore nodded. "Every second of a wishers run is recorded in the Great Annals. Even before the curse was cast."

Sarah leaned forward in her seat and began to fix herself some tea, just to have something to do with her hands. "What is this curse then?"

Caelenore cleared her throat and adopted a teacher's manner. "Back in the days of my grandparents, when my people left the Above to escape persecution from yours, the goblins were ruled over by the Great Goblin, a nasty bugger as I am told, but following his death at the hands of a band of Dwarves and a Wizard, the goblins left their mountain home and settled in the land which became the Goblin Kingdom and eventually fell under Faerie rule. At that time Grandfather appointed one of his generals, by name of Jareth, to rule over them. Jareth I brought his young son, incidentally the second of his name, with him as his heir..."

"What does this have to do with a curse?" Sarah demanded, cutting the Faerie woman off.

"I am getting to that," Caelenore told her, waspishly, irked at the interruption. "I would ask that you save any questions for the end."

Sarah nodded.

"As you might expect, the son grew up and eventually took his father's place," Caelenore continued. "Acting as his father had, taking away the unwanted human children and giving them to childless families who would appreciate them as they deserved to be; though first offering the fool who wished the child away to win them back through solving the Labyrinth. Jareth II took a wife and all was well for a time; until the day that a young woman was wished away.

"This woman, Cora by name, was wished away by her lover after telling him that she was pregnant. The lover it seemed, had a wife already, and wished Cora away to avoid any uncomfortable questions. When her time came, Cora traded her child for a life in the Goblin Kingdom. The baby grew up oblivious to his origins and the mother became the Queen's Attendant..."

Sarah had a sinking feeling that she knew what was coming. "Please don't tell me that the Queen caught the maid and the King in bed together."

Caelenore merely smiled. "How often has jealousy been the root of a curse, even in the nursery tales of this world?"

Sarah sighed. She couldn't deny the truth in that. Sleeping Beauty was cursed because a fairy was sore that she didn’t get invited to her Christening. Snow White was poisoned because of her stepmother’s jealousy.

"We Fae are not governed by human rationale," Caelenore continued. "So our actions cannot be truly judged by your kind. The Queen was livid, murderous in fact. She tore the beating heart from her husband's chest and crushed it in her fist. Then she froze the woman who had betrayed her and smeared her husband's blood over her."

Sarah felt sick. She didn't want to hear the rest of this. Shockingly, Caelenore took pity on her.

"I shan't sicken you with all of the details. To cut a long story short, the Queen abdicated with immediate effect and named Cora her successor. Nine months later Cora birthed a son, the very image of his father, she named him Jareth and from there the cycle began."

"Cycle?" Sarah asked, chewing her bottom lip.

"Every Goblin King since Jareth III has only ever been bested once Sarah," the blonde announced gravely. "Each time by a virgin maiden who learned the tale from a slender blood red volume. By the start maiden's twenty second year of life she is pregnant with the son of the Goblin King- the next Jareth. She reigns as dowager Goblin Queen until her son is old enough to walk the Labyrinth and assume his throne and the cycle continues."

Sarah, who had only celebrated her twentieth birthday three days earlier, gulped. "By her twenty second year, you mean by the time she's twenty one right?"

It was far easier to ask her questions if she posed them in an impersonal way.

Caelenore nodded. "Indeed."

Sarah shivered. She recalled Hoggle's warning from five years earlier. _"Take this Labyrinth, even if you makes it to the centre, you'll never get out again."_ She looked up at the

Faerie. "Why are you telling me this now? I still have a year left."

"I would have thought it obvious," Caelenore returned. "I want you try to break the curse. Free my brother and yourself, and of course your son would you not prefer that he has his own destiny? His own name?"

"What makes you think I can do this?" Sarah demanded. "Surely Goblin Queens have tried in the past?"

Caelenore's next words startled Sarah. "The Goblin Queens of the past have never been able to try; the curse enthrals them from the point of conception…" She paused. "Well, with the exception of my mother. Prior to my mother, no Goblin Queen has ever conceived another child, thus the Queen in waiting has never had advanced warning of the curse, until now.”

“I don’t understand,”

The yellow brown eyes rose to lock with Sarah’s green ones. "My mother's marriage to my father saved her life. She would have faded like her predecessors when my brother took his throne. She reigns today as High Queen Consort. I believe that this means the curse is weakened, that you can break the chain. Sarah, Lady Champion, I am begging you, one sister to another, give me the chance to save my brother's life."

Sarah felt trapped, more closed in than she had ever felt before, even in the Crystal Ballroom that Jareth had trapped her in. She needed space to breathe; space to think and process what she had just learned. She leapt to her feet.

"Excuse me," she whispered, rising and ran from the room.


	3. Chapter Two: One True Course

Somehow Sarah managed to escape the house of the Goblin King’s sister. She ran blindly from the morning room, down a hall and through one set of doors, and then another and emerged into a large back garden. The garden was beautiful, a slice of Faerie in the middle of modern day London. Immaculate lawns, broken only by a small pond and a large fairy ring, stretched from the back door. The plants which edged the lawns were in full bloom, wild and beautiful despite the chill of the October morning. Sarah rubbed her arms against the cold, regretting that she had not taken a coat from the pegs by the back door. As beautiful as the garden was though, it only served as a reminder to Sarah that she had a decision to make.

Five years ago Sarah had learned some very important life lessons during an eleven hour stint in a glitter soaked fantasy world. The morning after this trip she had woken up with no memory of the experience and continued in much the same way as she lived her life from the day Toby entered her life. Her refusal to grow up had effectively alienated her from her family; and had been the catalyst for her moving to a completely different continent after graduating High School. Twenty year old Sarah Williams, a much wiser woman than she had been when she woke up that morning, sat in the beautiful garden outside of a house belonging to the Queen of the Fireys, wracked with self-loathing. Her restored memories gave her new perspective on her life to date- and on the future she was going to have to give up for the Goblins.

One way or another Sarah Williams would become Goblin Queen. Caelenore had no reason to lie to her about that; even if she could actually lie, which given that she was Fae, was highly unlikely. Sarah knew enough folklore to know that Fae didn't lie; twist the truth yes; omit things, definitely; but not lie. The question was, whether Sarah could put aside her anger at the current Goblin King and try to win him over. If she had to become Goblin Queen and raise the next Goblin King she would far sooner have his father by her side than become a single parent.

 _'And it's not like he's unattractive,'_ Sarah's inner voice chimed in.

It was true, as she recalled, the Goblin King was pure sex appeal, even when she'd cowered before him in fear, she had been attracted to him.

 _'Of course you were,'_ the inner voice agreed. _'What with those pants of his.'_

Sarah clamped down on that thought. And the more than pleasant mental images that it came with.

Sarah gasped, flinching violently as something fell around her shoulders.

"A thousand pardons my Lady. It was not my intention to cause thee alarm," A familiar voice piped up from behind her. "I saw you shiver and sought to warm thee."

"Sir Didymus?" Sarah gasped, turning to face the little fox knight, sitting atop his faithful steed, Ambrosius; they had not changed a bit. As it turned out, the thing on her shoulders was a fur coat which she dimly recalled having seen hung behind the back door. She moved to embrace the little knight. "It's so good to see you again, noble sir."

"As it is you, Fair Maiden," Didymus returned. "Queen Caelenore summoned me to aid thee in thy plight, whatever it might be."

"I'll be sure to thank her then," Sarah smiled. "But where are Hoggle and Ludo?"

"Regrettably my noble brother is indisposed at present, my Lady." The knight told her. "He is needed by his wife."

'Wife?' Sarah blinked, and despite her longing to ask about the rock caller's wife, she said. "And Hoggle...?"

"Sir Hoggle's duties to the king rarely permit him any respite these days, my Lady." Didymus reported. "His Majesty feels he must put his affairs in order before the curse claims him as it has his forefathers."

And there it was. Sarah had not forgotten about the choice before her, of course she hadn't, but Didymus' arrival had been a blessed distraction; now though, the conversation had reached the matter at hand.

"And that's the reason you're here," she told him.

Sir Didymus blinked. "My Lady?"

"Cael... ah, Queen Caelenore," she amended seeing the disapproving look on the little knight's face at her show of familiarity with his King's sister. "… told me about the curse. It's why you're here."

"What do you mean My Lady?" Didymus asked.

"I mean, that as a former runner, Champion or not, I shouldn't be able to remember the Underground, not until next year at least when the curse drags me back to the Labyrinth. Queen Caelenore found me and returned my memories of the Underground and gave me a choice. Either I go back in time and get king Jareth- the current one I mean- to fall in love with me within a year, or I end up like all the other Goblin Queens before me."

"Then, and forgive me my Lady if I speak out of turn," Didymus put in. "I fail to see why you struggle to make thy choice."

Sarah stared at him, blankly. "What?"

"Sarah," he began, surprising her with his use of her name, as he dismounted Ambrosius who then proceeded with an attempt to sniff every inch of the garden. Sir Didymus sat beside her. "Wouldst thou not agree that not even His Majesty deserves to die in such a way as is his fate should you not attempt this?"

Sarah nodded, no matter what her feelings for Jareth may be, she wouldn't wish a death curse on him. "Yeah."

"And would thou not wish to retain thy freedom?" The diminutive knight asked, placing his paw on her knee. "You will make a fine queen to the Goblins my Lady, I could see this from the moment you led my brother, Sir Hoggle and myself to his majesty's castle to reclaim thy brother. Although whichever way you choose I should stand by you as thy protector until my very death..."

"Thank you, Sir Didymus,"

"My Lady?"

Sarah smiled at her fox-like friend. "Jareth doesn't deserve to die. None of the Goblin Kings before him deserved the fate they got, nor did the women who became Queens because of the curse. If there's a chance I can break the curse, I'd be stupid not to take it. I'll miss you Didymus, all of you. Even if I fail and I end up as just another link in the curse, you three will always be my best friends, but for now it's goodbye."

Sarah leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the old knight's nose before rising and heading back to the house.

* * *

Moments after Sarah had fled the room, Rozalyn entered with a folded piece of parchment in hand. “This just arrived for you, Majesty.”

Caelenore took it and nodded her thanks. “Go check on our guests. Is it normal for mortals to sleep this long?”

The Housekeeper shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, it was my mother who was mortal not I.”

Caelenore rolled her eyes. “Off with you,”

“Yes Your Majesty,” Rozalyn returned with a curtsey and left the room.

Alone again, the Firey Queen turned her attention to the letter, and her eyes widened at the sight of the familiar seal. “Five years and not a word,” she mused shaking her head.

“What does she want now?”

She split the black wax seal and unfolded the page.

_Caelie,_

_I know what you are planning to do with regards to Jareth’s present predicament, and as such, would like to offer my assistance with regard to sending the Lady Sarah back in time. Knowing you, oh impetuous cousin, you would attempt the spell alone and drain yourself to the point of illness. If you agree to my help then simply say the word- I would rather not lose two cousins; leaving me alone with Charles would just be cruel of you._

_-S_

“I know you are listening,” said Caelie, aloud. “So tell your Mistress that I would be honoured to accept her help. Also, that she need not fear that I would leave her alone with Charles.”

“Who’s Charles?”

Caelenore looked over to the door where she found Sarah standing, watching her. “My mother’s eldest son, another reason I believe the curse is weakened.”  
Sarah looked puzzled.

“Never before my mother, had a Goblin Queen born a child before the curse claimed them.” She explained. “Charles is mortal, for the most part- son of my mother’s first, short lived, marriage to a friend from her childhood.”

Sarah blinked. “Oh. So who were you just talking to?”

“A shadow demon,”

“What?”

“My cousin’s subjects.”

“There’s a kingdom of shadow demons?” Sarah asked, sounding more surprised than the Firey Queen would have thought she’d be.

“Of course,” the Faerie queen returned. “But am I to assume you’ve made your decision?”

Sarah stared at her. “You mean you don't know?”

Caelenore arched an eyebrow. “Sarah dear, I may have many talents, but mind reading is not one of them.” She shuddered. “Gods, can you imagine what it must be to be able to hear every thought which passes through a person's mind, ugh?”

Sarah bit her lip as a laugh threatened to escape her at the blonde queen's display. When she trusted herself to speak again Sarah said. “I'll do it.”

“Thank you Sarah.” Caelenore beamed at her

Sarah nodded. “Since I’m going to be Goblin Queen anyway, I’d prefer not to die when my son gets old enough to take over.”

“Very wise, and don’t worry- Jareth isn’t as bad as the Goblin King you faced.”

Sarah blinked. “What?”

“To cut a long story short, the Goblin King you faced was simply the persona placed upon him by your tie to the book; it’s the way of the curse. And the book isn’t supposed to paint a particularly complimentary to its Goblin King antagonist.”

“Oh, makes sense, I guess.”

It is entirely possible that an awkward silence would have descended on the scene at that moment if not for the return of Rozalyn.

“The other mortals are still sleeping Majesty, should I waken them…?” she broke off at the sight of Sarah. “Oh, excuse me Lady Champion.”

“Uh, hi,” said Sarah.

“Let them sleep,” Caelenore told her housekeeper. “It will be easier to transport them to their homes that way.”

Rozalyn’s face fell as she heard the hidden meaning behind her Mistress’ words. “You’re leaving?”

“I am,” Caelenore nodded. “And before you say anything, Lord Fabien of the Seven Falls is arriving this evening so you will not be without magic for long.”

“Thank you Majesty.”

“As you were then,” Caelenore turned back to Sarah, as her housekeeper curtsied and left the room. “Rozalyn is a changeling, and like all of her kind she suffers from an innate… addiction to magic.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, her face pale. “Will that happen to me? The addiction I mean?”

“No Sarah. When you return to the Underground you will become full blood Fae. I am sorry to say that the change is painful, but necessary. I cannot send you back as far as you need to go while you are human. It would kill you.”

“No pressure then,” Sarah quipped, though it fell flat. “Do we have to go today?”

Caelenore nodded. “I am afraid so, I you are going back to the day before Jareth’s coronation and for that we only have a twenty four hour window which puts your departure date as two days from now.”

“So soon?”

“You will need tomorrow to recover from the change.” Caelenore told her. “I am sorry that I cannot give you more time.”

She watched Sarah steel herself with grim satisfaction- she was stealing Sarah’s last year of humanity from her and the girl was taking the whole situation with the grace of the queen she would become.

“Ok,” she said, shoulders squared. “If I have a chance to break this curse before it breaks me. We may as well start now.”


	4. Chapter Three: Down in the Undergound

A short time later, Caelenore led Sarah to the back door once more. The Firey Queen opened the door and they stepped out into the beautiful garden; or at least, out of the house. The two women emerged into a large courtyard in a way which reminded Sarah of the way she had first entered the Underground. Although the last time entering the Underground didn’t make her head hurt, as it did now.

“Where are we?” she asked her hostess.

“This, Lady Sarah, is my kingdom.” Caelenore told her. “Welcome to Fyrehaven.”

Sarah tried to smile, but the muscles in her face didn’t seem to want to move, and the pain was spreading yet further with every passing second. Her entire head felt like lead and the pain was already moving down into her neck. A pathetic little noise of pain escaped Sarah’s lips.

She felt someone move to support her under her shoulders. Caelenore, she realised. And then the pain became too much for her and she was lost.

* * *

Jareth sat on his bedroom window ledge gazing unseeingly out at the labyrinth. He had come into his chamber for some now long forgotten reason and had been overcome with a curious, hypnotic sensation. The last time he had felt this way he had been a boy- his mother had begun to teach him about the various weapons at the Goblin monarch’s disposal and made him sample a dream peach.

He felt the same odd sense of separation from himself as he, and everyone who bit into a one of those hallucinogenic fruits experienced before they were sucked into their dream. On a whim, Jareth produced a crystal and began to roll it automatically across his fingers. Years ago, he had begun performing this trick at times when he needed to distract himself, but alas the motions had long since become committed to muscle memory, so his conscious mind had nothing to do with the procedure anymore.

Jareth let out a sudden growl of frustration and hurled the crystal into the wall above the door. Gods he needed distraction- Caelie was in the Above again. She had been spending a lot of time in the mortal world lately, Jareth couldn’t help but wonder whether his little sister had found a beau. Either way, Jareth, could not visit her as he couldn't venture Above now unless he was summoned, and then only to confront the wisher.

“Hedgewart!” he roared. “Hedgewart, attend me!”

“Hoggle,” came the usual correction followed by the dutifully timid. “Yes, Yer Majesty?”

Jareth had appointed the dwarf the position of manservant, instead of following through with his threat to make him Prince of the Land of Stench- the former gardener was just so fun to annoy.

“Yes,” the Jareth nodded, injecting a note of boredom into his voice. “Go down to the wine cellar and fetch me the strongest bottle you can find. There should be a bottle of hundred year old fortified fireberry red left.”

There wasn’t. Jareth knew, he just wanted the little scab to squirm. Bating Hoggle had become his favourite pass-time since his defeat at Sarah’s hand.

* * *

Sarah awoke to the sound of voices and found herself lying on a plush leather sofa. She ached right down to every bone in her body and groaned as she sat up. She found herself in a plain, functional sort of room with shelves of books lining the walls.

“Ah, excellent,” came Caelenore’s voice. “You’re awake.”

“Am I?” Sarah asked, wincing. She wouldn’t say that the way she was feeling at the moment was in any way excellent.

“How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” she admitted, and then noticing the fact that Caelenore was dressed differently to how she had been before, in a simple dark yellow day dress. “How long was I out?”

“Almost twenty four hours,”

“We were beginning to believe you might not wake in time,” came a drawling voice from behind Caelenore.

The Firey Queen moved aside to reveal a two women, both clearly Fae, though by the looks of things, they weren’t a conventional pair. One was a tall, regal black haired woman in a black gown, the kind which wouldn’t look that far out of place on the red carpet of a movie premiere. The other was slightly shorter than the first with blue black hair, pulled back in a single, thick plait; she wore slightly travel worn clothes, brown leather trousers, tucked into knee length boots and deep blue tunic long sleeved tunic.

“Sarah Williams, allow me to introduce you to Shivabanshee, Queen of Shadows.” Caelenore gestured to the black haired woman. “And an old friend of ours; Lady Krystral of the Dark Peak, Freelance Knight of the Underground. Shiva and Krystral will be helping me to send you back in time.”

“It’s going to take three of you?” Sarah asked, staring at the blonde in astonishment. The thought made her head hurt. “How far back are you sending me?”

“Jareth, that is the present Goblin King, took the throne two hundred and one years ago, tomorrow.” The knight informed her. “And Caelie intends to send you back to just prior to his coronation.”

“And yes,” Queen Shiva put in. “Reordering time is very taxing magic. To send a person back more than a century can drain a person dry, we shan’t bore you with the theorem but suffice it to say that, the more Fae lend their magic to the spell, the safer it is for all concerned.”

Sarah swallowed and asked her hostess. “Are you sure I have to go back that far?”

Caelenore nodded. “The earlier you begin, the longer you will have to work out how to break the curse.”

“Is there anything I need to know before I do this?” she asked.

“You cannot tell Jareth who you are,” Caelenore replied. “That you are his Champion that is. To do so at any point before your run through the Labyrinth will immediately break the spell and you will be returned to the point at which you were sent back in time.”

“Anything else?” Sarah asked, feeling that there must be more than just having to keep who she was from Jareth.”

“You only have one chance at this, and our window of opportunity to do this will close at sunset.” The Firey Queen looked like she had something more to say.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

“There is something that I have always regretted.” Caelenore said. “The fact that I am Firey Queen is something of a secret; I never asked for the crown and it took me a long time to come to terms with it, I would ask your support in the earliest days of my rule Sarah.”

Sarah couldn’t say she understood why the blonde kept her rule a secret. “Of course.”

Caelenore looked ready to cry and Sarah found herself slightly surprised that the blonde made no move to hug her.

Sarah nodded, schooling her features into a mask of confidence to hide her mounting trepidation and pain. If she didn’t go now there was a chance she might still back out.

“Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present, eh?”

Caelenore beamed at her.

* * *

It was another two hours before everything was ready for Sarah to go back in time. Caelenore had insisted on a very large lunch, even surprising her with three very large cheese and tomato pizzas, stating that they would both need their strength for the magic ahead of them.

“And besides,” she grinned. “This will be your last chance for a pizza for a long while, you’d be mad to pass it up.”

After lunch, the preparations began. Caelenore made Sarah sit down while she, Shiva and Krystral cleared Caelenore’s study of furniture and then the two queens set about drawing arcane symbols on the floor in white chalk.

“Alright, Sarah, you need to stand in the middle of the circle,” Caelenore told her, not looking up from her drawing. “Kyrstral, there’s a ball of silver twine on the shelf by the door, could you please construct a five-point star around Sarah with it?”

The knight did as she was bid and Sarah was soon surrounded by a silver star and a circle of intricate chalk symbols.

“What are the symbols for?” She asked.

“To help channel our magic,” the Queen of Shadows told her. “You are going back a long way Sarah, and while it is possible to send you back without them, they will provide a safety net and give you a soft landing.”

Sarah blinked.

“There is one thing before you go back,” the blonde queen continued, looking Sarah up and down. “No denim where you’re going Sarah.”

So saying she flicked her wrist in Sarah’s direction and changed her clothes from jeans and shirt into a green woollen dress which brushed the wooden floor and hooded cloak. Sarah lifted the skirt of her dress to look at the oddly practical shoes made of soft brown leather.

“Cinderella, eat your heart out.” She quipped.

Caelenore snorted. “Travelling clothes Sarah, no balls for you just yet m’dear. Now, are you ready?”

Sarah swallowed. She nodded.

“Splendid, now you’re going to want to close your eyes.” Caelenore said, rubbing her hands together as if to rid them of chalk residue. “Ready my friends?”

“Aye.” Kyrstral nodded, kicking her boots off and placing them beside those of Shiva and Caelenore, who had removed their footwear before they began drawing the symbols.  
Shiva nodded, and the three older Fae formed a triangle around the edge of the circle.

“Then, after three,” Caelenore said, raising her hands. “One… two… three,”

Sarah screwed her eyes shut and the trio of Fae began to chant in a lyrical, lilting language which Sarah couldn’t even begin to understand.

The world exploded.

* * *

Miles away in the castle beyond the Goblin City, the Goblin King almost dropped the wished away he was trying to comfort as a sharp pain shot through his body. Gritting his teeth, Jareth handed the toddler over to the nearest trustworthy goblin and he strode from the room, unwilling to show his subjects any sign of weakness.

The Labyrinth was screaming in his mind, sharing the same pain as its lord. The Goblin King barely made it into the next room- incidentally the relativity room which- before the pain became too much. He dropped to his knees, curling into an agonized ball. What was going on? He still had a year before the curse claimed him!

An image flashed through his mind. A vision of beauty, unattainable yet ever present in his dreams.

_Sarah._

Something had happened to Sarah, and her connection to himself and the Labyrinth was the cause of this agony.

Jareth’s lips formed her name, and those two syllables were the last sound he made before everything went black.

* * *

The Goblin Queen sat in her throne, bouncing the baby on her knee. Little Alice was the very last child that would be wished away to her; tomorrow her time as Queen would end, Jareth would run the Labyrinth and take his place as Goblin King. She only hoped that her son would not meet his Champion too soon.

Queen Christine would miss the Castle beyond the Goblin City. Despite its importance to the Underground, the Goblin Kingdom was rather secluded, a far cry from the new chapter she was about to embark upon. True she had been the High King’s wife for years, but her own upcoming coronation to the High Queen’s throne was…

A massive surge of power on the outer edge of the Labyrinth made Christine gasp. She had never known anything like that in all her time in the Underground. She rose and handed the baby to one of the goblins before transporting herself to the edge of the huge maze.

Lying on the crest of the hill from which all runners began their journey through the labyrinth was a dark haired young woman in green. She lay on her side, limbs spread-eagled around her and Christine was somewhat alarmed to notice that the girl did not appear to be breathing. The Goblin Queen crouched beside the girl and searched for a pulse.

Finding it easily, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. The woman was alive, though in some urgent need of help- but where in all the worlds did she come from?

“Miro.” She called.

The small goblin whose task it was to deliver messages to her husband appeared and bowed to her. “Majesty?”

“I have need of a healer...” The goblin vanished before Christine finished speaking. She swore. Her husband had always been protective of her to the point of irrationality.

“My love, the goblin said you were ill.”

The Goblin Queen rolled her eyes- he was forever jumping to the worst conclusions where she was concerned. “No dear, the message asked for a healer, but it was not for me.”

Here she gestured to the girl. “Rather for her.”

Christine had known her husband since she was little more than a child and did not need to look at him to know that his amber eyes were even now narrowed in suspicion.

“A spy?”

“Here in the Goblin Kingdom?” She snorted. “Erik, really, who in their right mind would send a spy to the Goblin Kingdom?”

“Three days before Jareth takes his place as Goblin King, Erik can think of any number of enemies...”

“Breath Erik,” Christine said, reaching out and taking his hand. “And remember that we are not in Paris any longer.”

Even years after the end of that tragic first chapter of their story, Erik still slipped into a third person speech pattern on occasion.

“Forgive me my dear,” the High King said, raising their joined hands to kiss the back of hers.

“Naturally, but I must insist on your sending a healer for the poor child, spy or no, we cannot know for certain until she wakes.” Christine stated reasonably. “I will house her here until we can interrogate her and we take things from there.”

Erik nodded his approval. “I shall send your healer, Angel mine. Be safe.”

He vanished. Christine, Queen of the Goblins shook her head.

“With you around I have no option.” She announced to the spot from which he had just disappeared with an indulgent smile. She returned her attention to the girl and with a wave of her hand transported her to one of the guest chambers. Christine rose and looked out over the Labyrinth; it was time to visit the runner.  
  



	5. Chapter Four: Beyond the Point of No Return

When Christine’s goblin messenger arrived Erik had been sharing dinner with his sons. Jareth and Charles might not be of his blood as Caelenore was, but he had raised both with Christine and the High King loved both as dearly as if he had sired them. When he arrived back at his casltle, Erik was delighted to see that his daughter had come to the table- she had been quiet lately, withdrawn; and he worried about her, but watching her devour her meal as if food were going out of fashion made him smile.

“How is mother?” Charles asked him as he entered the dining hall.

“She is well,” Erik returned, Charles might have been the son of Christine’s little _Viscount_ but the lad barely resembled the insipid sailor boy, beyond sharing his sire’s questionable taste in moustaches. “The healer was required for another.”

That caught Jareth’s attention. “Another? Is the wished away taken ill?”

“No Jareth,” he shook his head. “Although I would have a word with you,” then with a pointed look at his younger stepson, Erik added. “In private.”

A wide eyed Jareth nodded and rose to follow the High King out of the dining hall. Erik took a moment to consider the soon-to-be Goblin King; in keeping with the curse, Jareth was the very image of his sire, except for his golden hair and blue eyes both of which carried down from his mother. All three of Christine’s children had inherited her golden hair, although only Caelenore had bucked the trend of blue eyes and inherited Erik’s own golden brown.

The boys were respectively the sons of his mortal rival for Christine’s affections and, Erik’s best friend’s but both had grown up knowing only Erik as their father; and Erik loved each as dearly as if they were truly his own.

* * *

Jareth was more than a little surprised to find himself in the High King’s study rather than his stepfather’s laboratory or music room, whatever Erik wished to discuss with him must be serious, and unpleasant- for the last time Jareth had been in this room had been the day that Caelie’s bed had been discovered empty when she was little more than a babe. Where his little sister had gone during her absence was still a mystery nearly a whole century later, and thankfully, at least in Jareth’s opinion, she didn’t remember anything. But he would be lying if he said that her whereabouts during that awful time didn’t still trouble him.

Whatever this was about, Jareth doubted that he going to like it. And then his stepfather removed his mask. Jareth was at once transported back to the day that his baby sister had been found missing, the last time he had seen the scarred and burned mess that was all that remained of the High King’s face.

“Papa,” he began. “I…”

“There has been an incident outside the Labyrinth,” Erik said, cutting him off. “It is why your mother is not yet returned.”

“What happened?”

“A young woman was found unconscious outside the gates,” said Erik. “She was injured, barely breathing, and Eri… ah, _I_ believe her appearance to be connected with the stirrings in the south.”

Jareth blinked, worrying at the inside of his cheek with his teeth. He had a horrible feeling that he knew where this was going. “I run the Labyrinth tomorrow, papa…”

“You _were_ to,” came the reply which confirmed Jareth’s fears. “Erik is sorry Jareth, but until we can be certain that the woman’s appearance is not the doing of our enemies in the south, but I believe it would be better to postpone your ascension to the goblin throne.”

Jareth shook his head. “Father I really must protest!”

Yellow eyes narrowed in the ruin of the High King’s face. “Protest all you wish boy, but remember the vow I made to your father. Erik pledged to protect you, and your mother, until you become Goblin King- you are my son in all of the ways which matter, and I would keep you safe. If I allow you to run the gauntlet tomorrow I risk allowing you to come to harm, should the south have anything to do with today’s events.”

Jareth clenched his fists, and his teeth. His stepfather’s words were true- the arrival of this woman did coincide with the latest spate of attacks from the southern territories. The Goblin Kingdom held much more strategic importance to the High Court than the previous targets. But gods if this didn’t rankle.

Jareth was _ready_ to take his throne. The Goblins were his birth right; not just some obligation handed down through the curse on his bloodline.

“Very well,” he nodded. “But I will not delay long. I am ready to be king, papa.”

With that, not waiting to be dismissed, Jareth turned on his heel and stalked out of the study.

* * *

Sarah Williams' first conscious thought was that death was nothing like what she might have imagined it to be like. She was cocooned in something warm and cosy but was not yet ready to open her eyes to see just what. Unfortunately for her, fate had other ideas.

“I know you are awake, young lady.” A woman's voice remarked in gently accented English. “I have raised three children and know well the difference between real sleep and false.”

“Wasn't pretending,” Sarah returned, groggily- her voice was hoarse with sleep. “M’cosy.”

The woman laughed at that. “If you say so, Mademoiselle, but I should prefer to conduct a conversation with a face and not the back of a head.”

Sarah obliged the woman. She pushed herself into a sitting position and turned to face the woman, ignoring the pain shooting through her whole body in protest at her movement. The woman was stunning; no longer young but still in the prime of her life. She was a petite beauty with golden hair and blue eyes and a casual air of royalty lingered about her even with the casual attire she wore. Who she was was obvious to Sarah after having met Jareth and Caelenore.

“Much better.” The High Queen nodded, and a smile very much like her daughter’s curved her lips. “Perhaps Mademoiselle you would like to tell me how it is that you are saturated in not only the magic of my kingdom but of that of my adolescent daughter as well.”

‘ _Adolescent?_ ’ Sarah blinked. Had Caelenore sent her too far back in time?

“Caelenore sent me from the future to save your Jareth ma’am, I'm Sarah, his Champion.” she blurted before she could stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. Sarah clamped her hands over her treacherous lips. “I mean…”

“You mean nothing,” the older woman returned, evenly. “Not with the dose of truth serum I wet your lips with as you came awake.”

Sarah's eyes widened, realising that she had indeed come awake to the sensation of something tickling her lips. “T-truth serum?”

“A useful tool, _Cherie_ ,” Jareth's mother nodded. “Much less... messy than my husband’s favoured methods of interrogation.”

The little shudder that followed this have Sarah pause. What kind of man was the High King of the Underground?

“You say my daughter sent you back in time to save my son,” the Queen said, dragging Sarah back to the present. “May I ask how she intends you do that?”

Sarah told her. She detailed everything from the moment she woke up in Caelenore's London townhouse to her first, embarrassing thoughts on waking here in this room. She finished by enquiring as to whether she was in the Goblin Kingdom.

“You are,” the Queen nodded. “I am Christine, current Queen of the Goblins. Your arrival has caused some far reaching ripples in this realm Lady Champion.”

“Ripples?” Sarah asked, nervously.

“You arrive at a time of turmoil,” said the older woman. “For some time now there has been… friction with our neighbours in the south. Doubtless my husband will think that your arrival has something to do with that. As such I would estimate that my dear Erik will already have told Jareth that he may not run the Labyrinth tomorrow.”

Sarah blinked. “I’m sorry, Y-your Majesty, if I’d have known…”

“Then you would be in exactly the same boat as I, and every Champion before me,” Said Queen Christine, evenly. “Well, mostly. For my part, I do not know how you might break the curse, but I hope you will my dear.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Sarah smiled.

Christine waved her thanks away. “What kind of mother would I be if I did not hope for the best for my son? I’m only sorry that you will be in so much pain for most of your allotted year.”

Sarah stared at Christine, wide eyed. “Pardon me?”

“Your transition to Fae will not be as easy as Caelenore might have intimated.” The High Queen told her. “The change is linked to the curse, and so you will likely be in pain for the next nine months, although I assume that as you will not have the added burden of pregnancy as I and our predecessors did, you may have an easier time of it than we did.”

Sarah swallowed, and it hurt. “Caelenore… she didn’t say anything about that?”

“That,” said the Queen, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Would be because she doesn’t know. Tell me though, if you had known, would you still have taken this path?”

Sarah thought for a moment. Would she? “I don’t know,” she replied, honestly. “But I hope that I would.”

The Queen smiled. “Good.” She might have said more, but something unknown to Sarah caught her attention. Christine rose. “I must leave you to rest now Sarah dear. We shall talk more when you wake again. Now, I must see to an urgent matter.”

Suddenly, completely drained of energy, Sarah flopped back against her pillows and, as her eyelids drooped she watched Jareth’s mother sweep from the room, and then Sarah was lost to sleep.


End file.
